


Keep Me Warm

by some1_around



Series: 5+1 Tony Fics [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Angst, Christmas, Christmas Angst, Christmas Fluff, Cuddling & Snuggling, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing It Better, Love, M/M, Steve and Bucky are Good Boyfriends, Team as Family, Tony Has Issues, Tony Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 13:16:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5498399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/some1_around/pseuds/some1_around
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Tony was alone on Christmas, and one time he wasn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Alone for the Holidays

The first Christmas Tony can remember, he’s three. It’s before his mother decided he was too big of a nuisance for his nannies to deal with single-handedly, so Tony had yet to meet Jarvis. Maria herself was in another country – Tony’s not sure where, but it was probably Paris, as Maria always tended to go there during familial holidays. Howard was busy with work, and there was nothing more to be said about that. Howard was always busy.

So with parents who could barely stand to be in the same room as each other, not to mention their son – lest there was a camera near, then they were the ideal family unit – and a butler who wouldn’t arrive at Stark Mansion for several more months, Tony was alone. Even the mansion’s staff had been let off for the week by Maria as she departed from the house, so, unlike past years he couldn’t recollect, there wasn’t a stray staff member to slip him a warm muffin or press a quick kiss to his cheek.

Tony had stolen away under his bed with his blankets, a flashlight, and the brand-spanking-new holiday edition of _The Adventure’s of Captain America_. Thinking back on the memory when he was older, the comic was the only way he was able to tell it was Christmas.

Tony read with avid attention, flashlight perched on his shoulder and the only light in the dark room, as Captain America and his faithful right-hand man Bucky Barnes flawlessly took down Baron von Strucker and saved their team, returning to their base so they could celebrate Christmas, thwarting the evil man’s plan to ruin the holiday.

“ _Merry Christmas, Buck_ ,” the cartoon drawing of Tony’s hero said to his best friend when they were alone, pulling the other into a hug. “ _I couldn’t have done it without you, bud.”_

_“’Course you couldn’t have,_ ” Bucky responded, his smile fond as he hugged back. “ _Merry Christmas Stevie._ ”

“Merry Christmas Tony,” the young genius whispered to himself, imagining that it was Captain America or Bucky Barnes who was saying it. He closed the comic, flicked off his flashlight and huddled down into his blankets. “Merry Christmas Cap, Buck,” he whispered as he fell asleep, pretending he was wrapped up in their strong arms instead of old blankets. 

2. 

Tony pulled the amber bottle down from his lips after a long pull from it, staring out the window of his tiny dorm room at the snow-covered lawn of MIT. It was pretty, he supposed dazedly, watching the blurred crystals float down. The room was empty – hell, the whole dorm house was empty. Everybody else had _somewhere_ to go on Christmas, be it families, friends, or even their fucking book club. Just not Tony.

Which isn’t to say he didn’t _have_ friends – though he didn’t, really, but still that not what he was actually  _saying_. There were tons of people who would have killed for the chance to have Tony Stark at their party. And Rhodey was kind of maybe sort of Tony’s friend (his best friend, but Rhodey didn’t need to know that), but he and Rhodey had only been friends for a few months, and Tony wasn’t exactly the type of person you brought home for Christmas.

Not that Tony would have accepted even if Rhodey had asked. (He hadn't, but Tony knew if Rhodey had been aware that Tony was spending the holidays on campus then he would’ve in a heartbeat, because Rhodey was just that kind of stand-up guy.) Tony was too proud to accept pity, so he let everyone believe the rumors that he was going home to throw the party of the year at his own private mansion in Italy. Better people believed that than the sad truth.

Getting drunk, alone, in his dorm room on Christmas eve. Add in the fact that he couldn’t even legally _drive_ yet, and Tony kind of wanted to puke, and not because of the alcohol.

When had his life become such a miserable pity party? He was Tony Fucking Stark, son of one of the richest men on Earth, Youngest kid at MIT, outsmarting Steve Jobs by the time he was four – surely _someone_ would want to spend the night with Tony?

Not Tony. Maybe Tony _Stark_ , but certainly not _Tony_. Tony wasn’t good enough for that….

And there was the alcohol, Tony thought with a sigh, slinking down a bit in his chair. He was always such a mopey drunk, unless he could work up the energy to fake it. And whenever he got to room-tilting drunk a voice always popped up in his head reminding him of all the things he didn’t want to think about. (Strangely enough – but maybe not strangely at all – the voice sounded decidedly like Howard.)

Tony took another sip.

And hurled the glass bottle at the wall.

It fell to land amongst the shards of the last three bottles Tony had thrown. It wasn’t so satisfying anymore.

Shaking his head, Tony reached down and grabbed another bottle, popping the cap with his teeth and ignoring the way the metal caught on his gums and cut. He’s deal with it later if it posed an issue.

“Merry fucking Christmas,” he muttered to himself, and closed his eyes.

3.

When Tony woke up, he didn’t need to feel around to know his bed was empty. He was used enough to the cold that when someone else’s body heat was warming him up he knew the difference immediately. _Damn_. He sighed and pulled himself out of the bed, wincing as cold cum and lube squished in his ass. His whole backside ached – that’s what he got for being desperate enough to fuck the first willing asshole at the bar he’d gone to – but he dragged himself out of bed and towards the bathroom anyway.

“Good morning, Sir,” rang the tinny computer voice of the program he’d been working on. Right now all it could do was talk and respond to short conversation, but Tony had big plans for it once he got around the improving the coding. Currently, he was calling it Siri, thanks to its insistence only calling him Sir. Maybe he’d just sell it to Apple for a couple million.

He ignored his computer – didn’t want to think about how a not-so-intelligent computer was the only one to say good morning to him – and turned his shower to its coldest setting. He scrubbed his body down harshly until his skin was red even under the freezing water, a grimace marring his face because he still didn’t feel clean from that guy.

_Damnit._

Tony slammed his fist into the tile wall.

Was it too much to ask for there to simply be a _body_ next to him on Christmas? He didn’t give a damn if they stayed or not he just didn’t want to wake up cold for one damn morning. Was that too much to ask?

Apparently.

Tony watched the mesmerizing sight of the pink tinted water swirling down the drain. He’d split his knuckles, probably broken a finger or three. It didn’t matter, he’d deal with it later.

Tony turned off the shower and slunk back to the bed, crawling under the covers for a mere second before he jumped out and ripped the sheets off the bed with a snarl.

Once anything with the guy’s smell was down the trash shoot, Tony pulled a throw rug from the couch over to the bed and crawled under it, shivering in the cold apartment, not having bothered to put on clothes on top of his wet skin.

“Merry Christmas, you fucking asshole,” he growled to himself, curling tightly and burrowing under the covers.

Yeah. Just another year.

4.

Tony’s only awake for an hour of the next Christmas. Pepper is still dealing with the fallout of Obadiah’s recent betrayal, Rhodey’s still in the Middle East tracking down the last members of the Ten Ringers and a few stray Stark Weapons, and Happy is visiting his actual family for the holidays.

Tony shudders and fingers the still new arc reactor buried in his chest, feels the cold metal under his finger tips, avoids looking at the recent addition of the black lines arching out from it. He has a vague notion of what they mean, what they mean to _him_ , and it’s so hard to make himself care. So he just grabs the nearest bottle of high-proof Russian vodka and drinks until he passes out on the nearest surface.

No one, not even himself, wishes Tony Stark a merry Christmas that year.

5.

Tony stood in the bland hotel room across the world from his home. He wanted to scream. He wanted to throw something. He wanted to drink until he couldn’t think straight.

They hadn't made it _one year_. Hadn't made it to their first Christmas – and Tony had been trying _so hard_. This was supposed to be the year he didn’t have to spend alone – he just wanted one year, one year with Pepper, one Christmas with her.

With a cruse, Tony stormed from the room and onto the balcony that overlooked Tokyo. Pepper’s idea, of course, he thought leaning against the railing and scuffing his hands through his hair roughly. It was supposed to be a vacation, spruce things up in a new place, meet some new people, party a little.

Fuck.

Tony looked down over the railing dazedly. So far down. Cars were little more than blurs of light. It was all light and dazzling skyscrapers here, but it was still cold. The wind whipped by Tony, flaring his jacket out. Tony shuddered and turned his back on the scene and stalked back into the – cold – room.

Flopping onto his bed, Tony thought of his team back home. Steve and Sam were off chasing Bucky, Clintasha were probably celebrating by tearing down the government of a country Tony had never heard of, Thor was off-planet celebrating an Asgardian holiday with his family and people, Bruce was visiting his girlfriend/associate/friend Betty Ross. Pepper was with Rhodey.

And Tony was alone. Same old song.

Tony kicked off his shoes and crawled under the chilled blankets of the hotel bed still fully dressed in his suit.

“Merry Christmas!” Tony shouted into the room nearly half an hour later when sleep still alluded him.

He wondered if he’d ever hear anyone else say those words.


	2. Warm With You

Tony was so warm. Only semi-conscious, he smiled softly and nuzzled happily between the two furnaces in front and behind him that were his super-solider boyfriends. Something about the serum just made them burn and Tony had never been more comfortable then when he was squished between them on his giant sized bed in the penthouse of the Tower. And he could admit – but only when he was drunk, severely sleep-deprived, or half-awake – that part of that comfortability stemmed from the fact that subconsciously he knew nothing could ever hurt him. Not with Steve at his front and Bucky at his back, guarding him every second of the day. It was so warm.

Steve’s glorious tan chest rumbled in front of him with a soft chuckle and he felt gilded metal fingers slide over his waist and pull him even more firmly against Bucky, while Steve tangled his fingers through Tony’s hair and scooched to his front, nuzzling his nose into the crook of Tony’s neck.

“Good morning, Tony,” Steve said, kissing the spot under Tony’s ear that always made him shiver.

“Rise and shine, love,” Bucky added happily from behind him, words more of a purr at the early hour.

Tony whined softly and buried his face back into Steve’s skin, pushing his back closer to Bucky’s and conveying his message perfectly; he was staying right here, and so were they.

Both of them chuckled this time, cocooning Tony in a soft, rumbling blanket. Bucky started to kiss a trail down Tony’s shoulder while Steve focused his attention on Tony’s neck.

“Come on, baby,” Steve murmured, warm lips right above Tony’s ear. “You’ve gotta get up, it’s Christmas.”

Tony frowned slightly though his eyes remained closed, but still sunk backwards into the feel of Bucky’s mouth on his skin. “No it’s not,” he grumbled a little unhappily.

Again, chuckles, this time Bucky answering with, “Oh yeah it is, sweetheart.” He moved up to nibble Tony’s ear lobe in his teeth before dropping it. “It’s okay if you forgot to get us gifts though,” he purred, fingers tightening on Tony’s waist. “I’m sure you’ll find a way to make it up to us.

Tony sighed happily but felt the need to stress his point. “It’s not Christmas.”

“Oh?” teased Steve, running calloused fingers lightly down his sensitive sides. “And what makes you so sure about that?”

“It’s warm,” Tony answered, sleepy mind supplying the answer without thought. “You guys are here,” he also felt the need to point out.

Bucky smirked into his neck. “Lookit that, Stevie, he really is a genius,” he joked softly, metal fingers drumming along Tony’s skin. “You’re the one who insisted we hang mistletoe above our bed.”

Tony yawned and didn’t bother looking. “’S not Christmas,” he insisted.

Bucky just laughs again, continuing to press soft kisses up and down Tony’s back, but now Steve stills in his movements. “Tony, why-” he starts to ask, the concern in his voice enough to halt Bucky.

“If I may be of assistance, sirs,” JARVIS’ voice rings out from the hidden speakers in the Tower, “the date is currently December Twenty-Fifth, at nine o’ three in the morning on Christmas Day. Your team awaits you in the living room.

Tony sits bolt upright in bed, heart suddenly hammering in his chest.

“Tony, what’s wro-”

Tony jerks out of the bed, falling the floor before Steve or Bucky can wrap their hands around his arm and pull him into a hug. He _cannot_ stand the thought of that right now.

Stumbling to his feet, he clamors away from the bed and in the direction of their huge bathroom, ignoring Steve and Bucky’s shuffling and their calls for him to stay. He slams the door behind him and locks it, before leaning against it with a sigh. He squeezes his eyes shut and counts to ten. Does it two more times. Then moves forward and turns on the sink, splashing cold water in his face and shaking his head.

“Tony? Tony, what’s wrong, baby?” Steve pleads from the other side of the door, trying to shove it open. “Tony, open the door.”

“Baby, please, please just open the door we can talk about whatever’s bothering you,” Bucky begged.

Tony hung his head and fought back the sob building in his throat. It was starting, they were going to see how screwed up he was and they were going to leave and he’d be alone for Christmas again – he was _always_ alone on Christmas, this year wouldn’t be any different.

“Honey,” Steve pleaded, voice soft and whispering and the knocking on the door stopped, “please… let us help.”

The simple loving desperation in his voice broke something in Tony and he couldn’t hold back his sob even though he wasn’t crying. Apparently, the noise was all the motivation Bucky needed to literally break down the door.

Tony didn’t react to the loud bang and stayed hunched over the sink until strong, thickly muscled arms pulled him upright and his face was in warm skin and their were hands in his hair and around his shoulders and his waist and he was warm.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles a minute later when his heartbeat has calmed down amidst the super-soldiers and his brain has taken its cue and finally realized that they are still here, and he’d not going to be alone and cold unless he makes it that way.

Steve shifts his hold on Tony and Bucky ducks his head so he’s looking Tony in the eyes. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for,” Bucky says, pressing a firm kiss to Tony’s lips intuitively ensuring his presence and giving space for Steve to finish with “So long as you tell us what’s wrong.”

“Christmas,” Tony whispers when Bucky pulls back a second later, curling his fingers around Bucky’s shoulders. “I – I don’t like Christmas.”

Obviously they know there’s more to the story, but neither of them press. Now isn’t the time. And for that Tony is immensely grateful – he has no idea how he would explain the irrational fear of abandonment during Christmas, not to mention the dreaded puppy eyes that would be pulled. And Steve and Bucky know him well enough by now to know that if they push for answers and corner Tony it’s just going to make him run away.

So they don’t ask, just take the answer at face value, and Steve swoops Tony into his arms easily, carrying him from the bathroom princess style. Tony has learned better by now than to try and deny the squeak he lets out at the sudden movement and display of Steve’s strength – lord knows he’s used to it by now.

Steve, with Bucky at his heals, carries Tony to their bed and drops him down unceremoniously, wasting no time in scrabbling into the bed over him. Bucky slinks in as well, pushes himself firmly against Tony’s side and starts nibbling on his neck again.

“Later we’re going to go into the living room and open gifts with the team and drink eggnog and watch holiday movies,” Steve tells Tony, settling himself in the open v of Tony’s legs and leering down at him. “But right now, me and Bucky have one more gift for you.” Steve pushes down firmly against Tony and he takes the invitation to wrap his legs around Steve’s trim waist, moaning as Steve grinds into him and mauls his mouth. Bucky sticks a hand down the back of his pants and Tony can feel the smirk against his neck when he gasps.

Yeah. His boyfriends are the best.

(And later when there’s wrapping paper spread across the entire floor of the penthouse and Clint is drunk on eggnog and Bruce and Natasha are making out because they got caught under mistletoe, and Thor is loudly exclaiming his confusion over _The Muppet Christmas Carol,_ and Tony is giggling manically between the two soldiers pressed against his sides, because maybe he’s been dipping into the eggnog too, well…. He’s certainly not alone now, is he?)

Best. Christmas. Ever.


End file.
